


Whatever Remains

by Twinborne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, OC!Harry, Possibly SI!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinborne/pseuds/Twinborne
Summary: Something's happened to Harry during the first Quidditch match of the season...
Kudos: 2





	Whatever Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might read this and think "This is just the hospital scene from Prisoner of Azkaban!" and you'd be absolutely right. Partially rewritten, in my own style. Mostly for setup.
> 
> Needless to say, but still probably prudent: I don't own Harry Potter.

_"Take me, kill me instead—”_

_Falling, falling through icy mist…_

_"...have mercy… have mercy…”_

_Falling, falling… down… down…_

Just as suddenly as it started, the chilling upwell ceased. He could hear voices… many, some clearer than others; none distinct, save for a woman's scream in one ear, a high, cold laugh — cold as the air around him — in the other. The image flashed green behind his eyes, and he knew no more.

_“Lucky the ground was so soft.”_

_“I thought he was dead for sure.”_

_“But he didn’t even break his glasses.”_

Whispers… familiar words being spoken, not that he remembered hearing them before, but something… was that the swish of a cloak, or the turn of a page? _Cloak…_

_“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”_

The image of a horrible demon centered itself in his memory, and the rushing, sinking feeling returned, followed by the ghost of a hyperborean wind. He gasped as he shot upright, his head nearly colliding with a red-topped blur.

"Woah, easy there!" someone said, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder.

_Girl or boy? Can't tell…_

"How're you feeling?"

"Like a punchbag as the gym closes," he said automatically as he looked around. _More people, student age, by the looks. No one was familiar…_ "Where… where am I?"

"Thought you'd recognise the hospital wing by now," said someone to the left, "all the times you've been here," an eerily similar voice to the right.

"We thought you'd _died_ ," said a girl near the foot of the bed, visibly shaking, whether from cold or nerves was unknown. A small squeak came from behind.

"Wait… what happened?"

"You fell off. Must have been, what, fifty feet?"

"Shame about the match though, Diggory wanted a rematch straightaway; Wood was devastated, but he told him they won, fair and square."

_Match — Diggory — Wood? Oh no…_

Everything suddenly clicked, where he was, _who_ he was… Harry Potter, fresh off Quidditch...

_No wonder_ I'm _sore,_ he thought, bringing his face to his knees.

_Fred_ grabbed his shoulder, shaking a bit roughly. “C’mon, Harry, you’ve never missed the Snitch before.”

“There had to be one time you didn’t get it,” _—George_.

Then they started talking about point differences, house chances, but Harry turned it out. Harry… He was Harry. The impossible happened, and now he was sitting in this bed.

Some time must have passed, as Madam Pomfrey came to herd the Gryffindor Quidditch team out the hospital doors. ("We'll come and see you later, yeah?" "Still the best seeker we've ever had!") Only Ron and Hermione remained. Harry looked at both of them, wondering what to say next.

"My broom is gone, isn't it?" He didn't know why he said that; it just seemed the best first step to take in getting used to… _this._

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, enveloping him in a soul-wrenching hug.

Ron stood, seemingly unable to move. "We're glad you're okay, mate," he managed, as Hermione let go.

_I'm not okay._ "Yeah… me too."


End file.
